What Happens in the Psych Ward
by Gilbert Winchester
Summary: After a failed suicide attempt, Arthur Kirkland is sent to a mental rehabilitation center to help sort out his depression. Little does he know, what happens in the psych ward, stays in the psych ward. Based on true events USUK Rating subject to change.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Dear readers,**

**This is a very important fanfiction to me. This past year after spending two weeks collectively in the psych ward of a hospital for depression, I decided it would be a good idea to write my own experiences down for other people to read, and as a way of helping me cope with my memories. **

**I hope you all enjoy it. **

**Chapter 1**

"Have you ever caused yourself physical harm?"

"No."

"Do you take any non prescription drugs, and when was the last time you did?"

"Never."

"Are you sexually active?"

Arthur forced himself not to laugh at the serious expression on the woman's face in front of him. Did he look like he was sexually active?

"No."

It felt like he had been asked these questions over and over again. In fact, he could probably just fill out a sheet of paper and hand it to every professional person he had come into contact with today. It would probably save himself a lot of trouble.

How long had this been going on?

Arthur tried to remember when exactly he had woken up in the hospital. It had to be somewhere around midnight. He remember his mother smothering him as soon as his eyes opened, fresh tears rolling down her face.

All he really remembered was the pain in his stomach, the aching emptiness in his heart, and the fear for what would come tomorrow. By that point he had hoped he was dead. But life was full of wonderful little miracles, wasn't it?

He was forced to stay in the hospital for two days before they shipped him off here. Hetalia Mental Rehabilitation Center, Adolescent Unit B. At least, that's what they told him it was. Maybe it was Adolescent Unit C? He couldn't remember. By this point it was nearing one o'clock in the morning and his ability to think straight was long gone.

The nurse wrote something down on her clipboard, and looked back up at him with a smile that Arthur had learned was standard issue amongst the nurses in these types of places. They felt sorry for him. Of course they did. He was just another kid that had tried to kill himself.

"What brings you here, hon?" She asked, voice entirely too gentle. Arthur felt his chest constrict. He had answered this question too many times for one day. By this point he didn't even want to explain the intricacies of his failure of a life, so he settled for, "Overdose," and left it at that.

The nurse wrote it down quickly and then looked back up patiently.

"What caused you to want to overdose?"

Everyone asked that. What wouldn't cause a kid to overdose nowadays? They always said it was though they had never heard such a sad story in their whole lives.

"I didn't want to live, obviously," He said shortly, trying not to sound nearly as annoyed as he was getting by now. Why couldn't they just let him sleep?

"But why wouldn't a bright boy like you want to live?" She asked, again in that sugary sweet tone. They always acted like they knew him so well.

"You don't know me." He said, looking down at his hands and wringing them together, "I just don't like myself, alright?"

He hoped she wouldn't push the issue further. She didn't.

"Alright, but you will have to open up more about this if the doctor is going to help you tomorrow."

Like hell he would. But Arthur nodded anyway, hoping that he could just bullshit his way out of here. They wouldn't be able to help him. No one could help him.

"Alright, hon, that's all the questions for now, one of the male staff members will be in to do a body chart and then we'll take you to your room."

A body chart? What's a body chart?

"What's that?" He felt stupid. It was like they assumed that he knew everything about being in a mental hospital already. Did he look like he was a regular to these type of places?

The nurse only smiled in that usual way that she did, Arthur didn't know whether to be grateful for that smile or to hate that smile with everything in him.

"The body chart is to make sure you don't leave with any marks that you didn't already have," She explained. Oh. So it was to check if he cut himself. Awesome. There really wasn't such a thing as trust in these type of places after all. "Male staff will be in to do it before you can go to your room."

Great. They were basically strip searching him.

Arthur muttered something that sounded like a thank you and then slumped down in the plastic chair, hair falling in his face, and cried. It wasn't the first time he had cried today, but it seemed that the tears kept on coming. He wondered if he even knew how to express emotion any other way anymore.

You try to kill yourself and you end up in a hell hole. That definitely made sense. All around him Arthur could hear the sounds of teenagers screaming, cursing, loud music flooded his senses, already making him irritated. This was were he was going to have to stay?

He eyed the off white walls, the institutional lighting, the words scratched into the wood around the door.

Kill me I need weed.

Charming.

Was this really were they expected him to get better? If anything, this made him wish that he succeeded in killing himself. Why did he have to wake up? They told him he was _lucky_ to have survived. Lucky? Of all the boys who had overdosed, why did whatever celestial being that ran the world have to choose him to survive?

A loud crash sounded as the door swung open, a boy in a white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants quickly came into the room and shut the door.

Arthur could do nothing but stare in utter disbelief as the boy turned toward him and grinned, looking as though he was rather proud of whatever he had gone through to get into the room, that Arthur could only guess was off limits.

"Hey, dude! You're the new kid!"

Arthur didn't know what to say, but he felt his cheeks filling with blood and his mouth drop open slightly. Was he supposed to respond? What was this boy doing in here anyway? Where was the staff?

He heard banging on the door and jumped in his seat to open it, only to be blocked by the boy, bright blue eyes shining mischievously, meeting his own tired green.

"Let them have a little fun out there, I'm already in trouble anyway," The boy leaned against the door, blonde hair falling in his eyes in front of his terribly dirty wire rim glasses. "The name's Alfred Jones," He said, extending a hand out for Arthur to take.

He stared at it, as though it had reached into a dirty toilet and stepped back, tripping over the chair in the process and falling onto the floor.

"Oh, bloody hell-"

"Haha, dude, your accent's weird!"

Arthur could only stare incredulously, staggering up and moving as far away from Alfred as the small room would permit.

"What are you doing in here!"

Alfred laughed, pushing back on the door as the staff tried to get inside. How was he able to keep the door shut? There must have been at least three staff members on the other side. Arthur had the sudden urge to bang his head into the wall. Was this a normal occurrence in these type of places?

"Just giving you a good old fashion welcome to the crazy house." He grinned, pearly whites showing in all their glory, a smile that suited the boy's personality all too well. It was just as obnoxious as he was.

Arthur swallowed, looking up at the ceiling and wondering if anyone would notice if he just crawled into one of the vents and never came out again.

"Alfred! Open the door!"

"Hey! Dude! Chill out!" Arthur looked back from the ceiling to see the door ajar with the full force of what could only be half the staff on board the unit for the night.

The door slammed open, sending Alfred flying into him. He screamed, flailing his arms, but the boy clung on for dear life, pinning him to the wall in his struggle to evade the nurses that had now flooded into the room.

_Arthur tried to scream, the cool metal of the lockers chilled his skin, making the pain in his head amplify. He tried to keep the tears from streaming down his face, tried to seem brave. He gritted his teeth and leaned back, staring up at the florescent lighting and trying to focus on the number of bugs that were flying around it instead of the hands that gripped his shoulders painfully. _

"_Fucking fag." Another blow to the stomach caused Arthur to bite down on his lip so hard that he could feel the iron taste of blood on his tongue._

"Get off of me you bloody git!" Arthur cried, trying to keep his thoughts from returning to places he had long since blocked from his memory. A nurse came and pulled Alfred away from him, and he staggered back into the chair, eyes wide, breathing rapid.

"_Why don't you just kill yourself already?" Hot breath hit his face, eyes filled with nothing but unmasked hatred, bore into his own. He shut them, still feeling the breathing against his face, and trying to figure out whether or not it was better now that he couldn't see who was snarling the words. "Why don't you do everyone a fucking favor and kill yourself?" _

"Level 4 adolescent B, Level 4 adolescent B." The loud speaker cut through the commotion outside. He could here a loud scream, likely from Alfred and then a high pitched yelp that didn't sound like it could have come from something human. Arthur shrunk back in his chair, pulling his knees to his chin.

How long would he have to stay here? He wondered, miserably. They told him five days was the usual amount of time when he was at the hospital, but that he might have to stay for longer if his treatment demanded it. He hoped it wouldn't.

He wasn't crazy like these people. He wasn't crazy. He just wanted to kill himself. So what?

The door cracked and a tall man walked into the room, looking as though he had just come out of a wind storm. Arthur looked up, not bothering to bring his legs down and waited for the man to say something. He wasn't in the mood for being sociable right now.

"We're going to have to do your chart tomorrow," The man said, appearing to be out of breath. What was happening out there? "We're just going to show you to your room for the night. Come on. Quick."

Arthur quickly sat up, following the man closely as they entered the unit. It looked like a prison, to say the least. Everything was covered in a plastic coating, makeshift artwork was nailed to the wall, failing miserably to serve its purpose as interior design. Boards were nailed on nearly every corner, probably were people had kicked holes in the wall, Arthur guessed.

In the center of the unit was a large office, surrounded by plexiglass and a few breathing holes, as though everything in the unit was an experiment to be watched from the outside. As though everyone inside was a dangerous animal at the zoo.

He could hear banging coming from one of the rooms further down the hallway, which he could only assume was Alfred's room. As he made his way down the hall of doors, heads poked out, scanning the scene.

A boy with strikingly blonde hair that almost appeared silver under the institutional lighting of the unit, stared at him with narrow eyes, smirking as though he was stalking prey.

Arthur gulped, grateful that the nurse had stopped at a room and was busying himself with the keys.

"Back in your room, Gilbert!"

How did he know he was out of his room without even looking?

"Kesesese I'm not out of my room, nurse!"

The nurse rolled his eyes and quickly unlocked the door, motioning Arthur inside. He followed suit into the small room. Two beds sat in the middle with an end table on either side of them. The lights were off and a sleeping form lay unmoving under stained covers.

"This is your room. Sheets are next to the bed," The nurse motioned to the stack of white linens on the floor, "Your roommate is Antonio." He motioned to the sleeping form and Arthur nodded absentmindedly, hoping that whoever he was, he wasn't crazy like Alfred or Gilbert.

"Alright," Arthur muttered, wanting nothing more than to slip under the sheets and lose himself to sleep. As the nurse left, he walked across the room carefully, not wanting to wake his roommate, no matter what type of temperament he might have.

He had no attention span for that kind of introduction. All he wanted was sleep.

Carefully, he slipped the sheet onto his mattress, trying to make as little noise as possible and then slipped into the bed, not even bothering to cover himself up.

Maybe he would die in his sleep.

Maybe he would have a freak heart attack and no one would know what happened.

Maybe he would forget to breath and die peacefully in his sleep.

These thoughts were the only thing keeping Arthur from crying as he drifted off into oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you everyone for the reviews! Sorry for the terribly long wait for the next chapter. I had a lot going on. **

**Chapter 2**

Arthur woke up in the morning to an uncomfortable pain in his side. He opened his eyes slowly and knitted his eyebrows together at his surroundings. Oh. He remembered. Of course. He was here.

He sat up, shivering a little and pulling the thin covers tighter around himself. He hadn't realized how freezing the room had been last night. Was there a draft? He looked to the large window on the left side of the room and sighed. It too was nailed up on all sides. Thin scars covered the plexiglass from where Arthur could only guess people had tried to break out to no avail.

He swallowed fearfully, looking to the other side of the room to the bed opposite his own. His roommate was still sleeping, and he had no intention of waking him up before he absolutely had to. Arthur carefully laid back down in the bed and groaned as his back hit the hard wood under the thin mattress. If he had to sleep like this for another night, he was sure he would be able to add back pain to his list of ailments when he got out of here.

_Arthur stumbled into his bedroom. His legs felt as though they might fail him any moment as he fell onto the bed, burying his face in the covers and wishing that he could just suffocate. Why did everything have to be so complicated?_

_He heard a buzzing come from his nightstand, looking up to see his phone lit up signifying that someone was trying to call him. He sat up only slightly, reaching out as far as he could to grab the object from the night stand, squeezing his eyes in pain as he reached the phone and looked at the caller ID._

_Mum._

_He clicked the answer button and held the phone to his ear, trying to hold himself together for long enough to fool his mother into thinking he was okay._

"_Hello..." He said, shutting his eyes and rolling over, looking up at the ceiling fan to distract himself from the pain he was in._

"_Arthur! Why didn't you show up at work today?" She scolded into the receiver. Arthur winced. That was right, he was supposed to be at the drug store after school, but that was before..._

"_I know, mum. I'm sorry. I had to stay after school today to work on a project and it completely slipped my mind," He lied, biting his lip and trying not to remember the real reason that he hadn't shown up._

_He heard her sigh on the other end of the phone. The disappointed sigh he so often heard come out of her mouth. The sigh that made him feel as though he was really more of a waste of space than he had already thought._

"_Arthur, you know that you have to work if we're going to keep the apartment..." His mother said carefully into the phone. Arthur shut his eyes. He already knew that. He already felt the sinking feeling returning to his chest as he nodded, unable to utter any words._

"_I know," He choked finally, "I know, I'm sorry."_

"_I'll be home around ten, are you sure you're going to be alright alone?"_

_Arthur looked over at the clock on his dresser drawer. 5:10. That was 5 hours away._

"_I'll be fine," He said, unsure of whether or not he was telling the truth. Would he be fine?_

"8 o'clock! Rise and shine sleeping beauties!"

Arthur was roused from his thoughts by a loud voice and a bang on the door. He immediately shot up and rolled out of bed, watching carefully as his roommate opened his eyes and yawned, immediately shooting up from the bed when he saw Arthur staring at him.

"Oh! I didn't know I got a roommate! When did you come in?" The boy asked. Arthur eyed him. He had shaggy brown hair that fell in his face, bright green eyes that were wide open for so early in the morning.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, finding words hard to grasp. He ran a hand through his hair.

"It was late last night," He said, "You were sleeping."

The boy instantly smiled, a smile so bright that it couldn't possibly be legal this early in the morning. Arthur found himself staring again. How was he possibly so happy in a place like this?

"Oh! I see! Well, I'm Antonio..." He held out his hand for Arthur to take, "Bienvenido!"

Arthur took his hand carefully, not really trusting anyone he had met here after Alfred and smiled as best he could muster.

"Arthur," He muttered back, giving his hand a shake, "And thank you."

"Come and get your vitals! Everyone up! Vitals!"

Arthur let go of Antonio's hand and looked around, trying to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do. He looked to Antonio for direction and followed him out of the room, close behind.

"Every morning you have to sit down and get your vitals," Antonio explained when they were out of the room, watching Arthur's confused expression. "You know, your heart rate, your temperature and all of that."

"Right," Arthur said, watching as Alfred, the boy he had met last night and caused so much trouble, sat down in a chair next to the nurse's window, thermometer in mouth. He looked over waving at Arthur excitedly and Arthur turned away. "Do we just wait in line?"

"Yep," Antonio said, waiting behind a shorter boy with blonde hair and glasses, who looked almost exactly like Alfred.

"Buenos dias, Matthew," Antonio said to the boy, who turned, smiling shyly. Now Arthur could definitely see slight differences between him and Alfred. This boy had longer hair that fell into his eyes, unlike Alfred's shorter hair. Everything about him was understated, from his large hoodie, which made him look as though he couldn't possibly weigh over 100 pounds and his pale skin. It looked as though all he wanted to do was fade into the background, unlike Alfred who clearly wanted the opposite.

"Oh, um, buenos dias, Antonio," He responded with a shy smile, pushing his glasses further up the bridge to his nose. "Do you know what happened last night?"

Antonio furrowed his brow.

"I didn't hear anything, did something happen last night?" He turned to Arthur and grinned, "I almost forgot, I got a new roommate!" Antonio motioned with a thumb toward Arthur, who suddenly felt ten times more self-conscious than before. He shoved his hands in his sweatshirt and looked over at Matthew hesitantly.

"This is Arthur," Antonio introduced, "Arthur, Matthew, Matthew, Arthur."

Matthew smiled hesitantly at Arthur.

"Nice to meet you, Arthur," He said, voice so calm that it instantly made Arthur feel at ease.

"Likewise," Arthur said, smiling as best he could. In all honesty, it was hard to smile at anything when he was still in this place.

"If you need any help I could-"

Matthew was cut off by Alfred bounding out of the chair the nurse had been taking his blood pressure in and coming up to wrap an arm around Arthur's shoulders

Arthur jumped and quickly moved toward Antonio. What was with this boy and touching him?

"Hey! Dude!" Alfred said, grinning, seemingly unaware of Arthur's distress. His eyes were an unusually bright shade of blue, and despite himself Arthur found himself unable to look away. "Sorry about last night, but they just can't let anyone have any fun around here!"

"That's because you kicked a hole in our bedroom wall and then made a run for the holding room!" A tall boy with messy dark hair and glasses walked up behind Alfred.

Alfred laughed, wrapping an arm around the boy, who made a grunt of protest.

"Admit it, you wanted to get out of the room!"

"I wanted nothing of the sort, I-"

"No need to fear everyone, the awesome me has arrived!"

Everyone in the line turned toward the boy who Arthur recognized last night that had been watching him. He shivered, eying his unusually red eyes.

"Shutup, bastard, it's too early in the morning."

Arthur's head was spinning at all the new faces that kept popping up, wishing they all had name cards on.

"Hey! Who's the new kid?" The silver haired boy turned toward him, arms crossed.

"That's Arthur," Antonio said quickly, that same grin plastered on his face. "He's my new roommate!"

The boy extended his hand for Arthur to shake.

"I'm Gilbert," He said, smirk on his face. Arthur wondered if he had any idea how to actually smile. "Welcome to Hell!"

"Uh, thanks." Arthur looked away, dropping Gilbert's hand and sitting down in the chair to let the nurse take his blood pressure.

"Alfred, I heard you kicked a hole in the wall last night and then made a run for it," Gilbert said, eyes shining. Was that what had happened? "Getting tired of rooming with specs, or what?"

The brunette boy with the glasses frowned, and crossed his arms, while Gilbert laughed his signature laugh.

"I'm getting tired of here, actually," Alfred responded, watching Arthur intently as the nurse took his temperature. Arthur looked toward the ground, cheeks blazing.

"I've been here two months," Gilbert said, rolling his eyes, "You don't know the meaning of 'tired'."

Two months? Could they really keep a person here that long? Arthur bit his lip. He couldn't stand being here much longer than a week, if he even survived that.

"Alright, you're all set, hon," The nurse said, having finished taking his blood pressure, "Go on to the dining room for breakfast."

Right. The dining room. Arthur looked around the crowded hallways, feeling slightly dizzy. Suddenly he felt a hand on his arm and turned around.

"Come on, I'll show ya' where to go." Of course, it was Alfred yet again, looking down at him with those bright blue eyes and distracting smile. He turned away and sighed.

"Alright." Arthur followed after Alfred into a larger room, looking like a lost kitten. The room itself had the appearance of what Arthur had always seen in prison movies where the inmates were served chili and got in fist fights. He swallowed, following Alfred to a small window were a woman was handing out trays of food.

"Hey! I need more syrup!" Alfred called through the window, where the nurse looked anything but amused. "How am I supposed to eat two pancakes with one thing of syrup?"

"I'm not supposed to give you any more sugar, Alfred," The nurse said, impatiently, taking out another tray and putting a hand on her hip. "Take it up with your doctor if you have a problem."

Alfred groaned, practically tossing his tray down at one of the tables and slumping down in his chair.

"Fine, I'll just have to starve." Even as he said so, he had already opened his tray and was digging into the food on it as though he hadn't eaten in the last month. Arthur rolled his eyes. It must really be true what they said about Americans.

He stood awkwardly at the window, not really sure of what to do.

"You're new here, right?" The nurse asked, looking up from where she was arranging the trays. Arthur nodded, feeling suddenly very self-conscious.

"Um, yes," he said, swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat.

The nurse sighed, leaning down to the rack of trays in the back of the room and pulling one from the bottom.

"You'll have to take one of the extra meals today, but make sure to fill out a menu so we can get you food you want tomorrow," she said, handing him the tray and rummaging through the compartment on the side of the room to retrieve a fork. "Ask staff if you have any questions."

Arthur nodded and looked around the room where most of the patients were already eating. He didn't recognize any of them, other than Alfred and the few that had started to come in from the hallway.

"Yo, new kid, sit down!" Arthur looked over wearily to the other side of the room to see Alfred, motioning him to sit beside him. He sighed, biting his lip. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to sit anyway.

Arthur sat on the side of the table opposite from Alfred and looked down at his tray. Gross looking eggs with a side of stale English muffin. Delicious. He reached for the frozen orange juice in the corner of the tray and busied himself with opening it, not wanting to engage conversation with the boy across from him.

Maybe if he just laid low for the whole time he was here they would let him out early. He could only imagine what his mother was going through at home without him. How would she pay the bills with him out of work for a week? Or longer? Arthur didn't want to think about it.

"Hi."

Arthur looked up to see the boy he had met this morning sitting next to him, tray full of pancakes and maple syrup like Alfred's. In all honesty, he could be Alfred's twin.

"Hello."

He shifted awkwardly in his seat. How was he supposed to start conversations here?

"You got here last night, right?" Matthew said, appearing just as shy as Arthur felt at the moment. He couldn't tell if that made him easier to talk to or harder.

"Yes," Arthur said, smiling a little, "When did you get here?"

"Four days ago," Matthew said, opening a syrup packet. "I'm probably leaving either tomorrow or Friday, they said."

He smiled a little, pouring the syrup gingerly over his pancakes. Arthur's heart dropped. So he was leaving already. So much for having one sane person to talk to.

"That's great!" Arthur grinned, pushing around his eggs with his plastic fork, not feeling hungry in the slightest. He looked over at Matthew, wondering what such a sweet and quiet boy was here for. Did you ask that sort of thing here?

He was about to open his mouth when someone else sat down at the table. The other boy he had seen earlier in the morning with brunette hair and glasses.

"Good morning, Matthew," the boy said, smiling at him and pouring milk into his tea. He paused, looking over at Arthur. "You came last night, right?"

If Arthur had to answer that question one last time he was going to scream.

"I'm Roderich," he said, occupied with stirring his tea around. "I'm Alfred's roommate, unfortunately."

"Hey!" Alfred looked up from where he was stuffing his face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Roderich rolled his eyes.

"It means, if you don't clean up your side of the room, we're going to fail our shift again and I'm going to request to move."

Arthur furrowed his brow. What was a shift?

"Just because I got bored and decided to make a chain of my underwear over the window _one_ time..."

"One time too many!"

Arthur decided to tune out the conversation, looking down at his plate and stirring the eggs around, trying to decide whether they were edible or not.

"Hey, if Alfred doesn't work out as a roommate you could always move in with me!" Gilbert said, sliding into the seat beside him and grinning mischievously.

Roderich slid toward Alfred and away from Gilbert, making a face.

"If I were to move rooms, you would be the last person I'd want to move in with, I assure you."

"You can have him," another boy with brown hair that stuck down all except for one hair that curled at the top of his head, "The damn bastard takes too long in the shower anyway."

"Ah, come on, Lovino! All this sexy takes time!" Gilbert said, nudging the other boy in the ribcage. Arthur noticed the scars that covered his arms from where he his t-shirt didn't cover and looked away quickly. Gilbert pulled down his sleeves, noticing Arthur looking at him and put his arms under the table, looking away self-consciously.

Lovino. Arthur tried to commit that to memory, but there were so many new names and faces it was hard to keep track.

"Who are you?" the boy, Lovino said, mouth set in a permanent scowl. He had a thick Italian accent. Arthur wished he could disappear.

"Arthur. Arthur Kirkland," he said, looking down.

The other boy nodded simply, seemingly uninterested and violently opened his pack of Lucky Charms.

"Hey, Arthur, what're you in for?" Alfred slid in next to him before he even knew that he had left his seat on the other side of the table, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as though they had been long time friends. Arthur jumped out of his grasp and scooted further toward Matthew.

"Why is that any of your business?"

"Come on, everyone knows why everyone's here!" Alfred argued, pouting a little and crossing his arms. "I'll tell ya' why I'm here!"

Despite his resolution not to get involved with talking to Alfred, he couldn't help but let his curiosity get the better of him. He looked up into wide blue eyes and cocked his head to the side.

"Why _are_ you here?"

"Tried to jump off of London Tower Bridge," Alfred admitted, almost proud of his accomplishment. Arthur frowned. Why would Alfred try to jump off of a bridge? He seemed far too happy for that...

"Oh," Arthur said, unsure of how to respond, "Why would you do something like that?"

"Duh, I wanted to kill myself," Alfred said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Why wouldn't I do something like that?"

"Well, it doesn't sound terribly well thought out," Arthur commented, taking a sip of his frozen orange juice and making a face. It tasted horrible.

"Well, yeah, I guess it wasn't really," Alfred said, shrugging. "The cops came and fished me out of the water and that's how I ended up here." He sat back in his seat and looked over at Arthur. "So how'd you get here?"

Arthur took a deep breath and looked down. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't think he _could_ talk about it without getting upset all over again. Arthur hated showing weakness, especially in a place like this with people who could easily make his life a living hell for however long he had to stay.

"Overdose," Arthur said quickly, avoiding Alfred's eyes.

Alfred stared for a moment, seemingly lost in his own thoughts and frowned.

"Why would you want to do a thing like that?" he asked finally. Arthur wondered how he could say something like that when he had tried to jump off of London Bridge.

"The same reason you tried to jump off a bridge," he said, looking over at the other boy briefly. For a moment, it seemed as though the two of them weren't so different after all. Maybe that was the one thing that brought everyone together here. Despite all their differences, at one point or another, they didn't want to live.

As the two of them finished their breakfast, Alfred babbling on about superheroes he liked and other things that Arthur wasn't very interested in at all, Arthur thought that maybe he had more in common with these people than he originally thought.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: **

**AN: Hello everyone! Thank you to all who reviewed. It means so much to me. I'm also looking for a beta, so if anyone's interested, please contact me. :) **

"Alright, community meeting!" The nurse called into the breakfast hall. Arthur looked around confused for a moment, and started following the other boys out of the room and down the hall. They all crowded into a room with three beat up couches lined up across from each other, with a large chair at the other side of the room.

Gilbert made a beeline for the chair and immediately swung his legs up on the armrest. Antonio, Matthew and Roderich sat on the couch on the other side of the room, and Alfred chose the loveseat adjacent to both of them.

Arthur looked around, suddenly feeling as though he was back in his school again, searching for a table to sit at during lunch hour. His eyes were drawn to the empty seat beside Alfred. What if he didn't /want/ him to sit there? What if he was saving it for one of the other boys? Arthur stood awkwardly as the rest of the unit shuffled into the lounge, watching as Lovino, took the seat next to Alfred in horror.

Now where was he supposed to sit? Lovino hardly seemed like the most inviting person on the unit, and he definitely didn't want to get on his bad side this early.

"Hey, Artie, come sit with me!" Alfred looked up cheerfully, patting the spot between he and Lovino and grinning like an idiot. Artie? When had he ever said it was okay to call him that? He sighed, looking at the American's eager expression and sat down on the couch carefully, as though he was going to be electrocuted by the cushions.

Lovino stiffened as he sat down, moving to the complete other side of the couch and laying his head on the arm rest.

"I never said you could call me Artie," Arthur said, looking over at Alfred haughtily. The last time someone had called him that was...His thoughts trailed off, not wanting to think about it at the moment.

Alfred only laughed, moving his legs so that he was sitting pretzel style on the couch, legs touching Arthur's just slightly. Arthur quickly scooted toward Lovino and swallowed as the nurse came back into the room, carrying a clipboard.

"Alright, let's get this over with," She said, looking just as tired as Arthur felt. She walked across the room to the chair that Gilbert was sitting on and put a hand on her hip. "How many times do I have to tell you that you can't sit here?" She asked, rolling her eyes. Gilbert laughed, his very unique laugh, that had already become annoying to Arthur after only being here a few hours.

"Go sit over by Antonio, please," She said, looking down at her clipboard again without a glance at Gilbert. He sighed dramatically, plopping down from the chair as though he had just jumped off of a cliff and moving to sit next to Antonio.

The nurse took the seat he had previously been occupying and crossed her legs.

"Alright, now that we've cleared that up we'll go through goals," She flipped through the stack of papers on the clipboard and then took out a pen from her pocket. "Alfred, goal for the day."

Arthur looked over at the other boy, terrified for a moment. He was going to have to give a goal? What was he supposed to say? Especially in front of all these people...

"Pass my shift," Alfred said quickly, without even thinking about it. The nurse wrote it down, looking bored out of her mind and flipped to another page. There was that word again. Shift. Were they expected to work shifts? What did that mean? Arthur made a mental note to ask about it later.

"Antonio," She said, not even looking up from her clipboard.

"Stay positive," He said, grinning like he had been all morning. To Arthur, it looked like that didn't even need to be a goal for him. Why was he here anyway?

"Alright, Roderich, goal for the day," She looked up, tapping her pen on the clipboard.

Unlike most of the other boys, he thought for a moment.

"Pass my shift," He said, after a moment, as though he couldn't think of anything more interesting. Arthur wondered if the nurse really cared that they had a goal either way. It didn't seem like anybody was concerned about anything to actually help them get better.

"Gilbert, goal."

"Stay awesome," He said, leaning back and putting his hands behind his head. The nurse sighed, writing it down and then looked up.

"You should really think of a more therapeutic goal," She said, "Why not try to pass your shift?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes, but the nurse moved on anyway.

"Lovino, what's your goal for today?"

He looked up from where he had his head down on the arm rest, sleeping, and replied groggily, "Pass my shift," and then closed his eyes again.

"You're not going to pass your shift if you sleep all day," The nurse reminded him. Lovino didn't seem to care, as he kept his eyes shut.

Did anyone have any other goal than passing their shift, Arthur wondered.

"Francis..." The nurse looked around for someone, whose name Arthur hadn't heard mentioned at breakfast. "Where's Francis?" She asked, looking around the room again to make sure she hadn't missed him.

"He's still sleeping," Matthew said quietly, "I tried to wake him up this morning, but he wouldn't listen."

The nurse nodded, writing something down on her clipboard.

"Well someone's going to have to wake him up, whether he likes it or not, or he's going to fail his shift for the day."

"I'll try again, if you want," Matthew offered.

"Alright, just give me a goal and then you can go," The nurse said, tired.

"Stay positive," Matthew said immediately and then carefully sat up from the sofa and turned the door to the room, walking down the hallway.

Arthur watched him go and wished he could leave as well, knowing that everyone else in the room had already given a goal for the day.

"Alright, Arthur..." The nurse said when the door had shut, looking around the room, "Where's Arthur?"

"I'm here," He said sheepishly, wishing he could disappear. Everyone's eye were on him.

The nurse nodded, looking up at him but not really smiling. It was highly unnerving.

"Welcome to the unit, hon, any questions?" She asked, although it seemed like she wasn't really willing to answer any questions. Arthur shook his head quickly. "Alright, what's your goal for the day?"

"Um," Arthur said, feeling as though everyone was judging his every movement, "Stay positive?" It came out as more of a question, and Arthur felt suddenly stupid.

The nurse wrote it down and then sat back in her chair.

"Okay, after community meeting is over you'll all go back your rooms and get dressed for group, your AED bins are in the hallway now..."

What was an AED bin? Did he have one? Arthur looked around at everyone else, who looked as though they had heard this speech far too many times to count.

"After that you'll split up into groups. Group 1 will go with Miss Karyn and Group 2 with Miss Allison in the art room, groups will be posted outside of the lounge. After that we've got lunch, and those of you who are on level 2 or high will go outside after that," The nurse said, looking around at each of the boys.

What was level 2? Arthur wondered, and how did one get to level 2? Did you start out on level 1? How did you move up to level 2?

"Then we have quiet time and another community meeting," She finished explaining, sitting up from the chair. "Community meeting is over, you are all dismissed."

The boys all filed out of the room, Arthur being the last one, feeling completely lost. He watched as they lined up by the nursing station and she handed them each a plastic container with shampoo, conditioner and various other toiletries inside. Did he have one of those? Arthur lined up like a lost puppy and waited ,feeling as though he didn't belong here.

"Excuse me," He asked the boy in front of him, Roderich was it? He hadn't exactly memorized names with faces yet. The boy turned around, looking tired, but non-threatening.

"Yes?" He asked, in an accent that Arthur couldn't quite recognize. He couldn't recognize half of the accents here. What were they all doing in England anyway?

"What exactly are we supposed to be doing right now?"

He felt stupid asking, but he couldn't stop the spinning feeling, as though he was on a merry go round and couldn't stop.

The boy's eyes softened, almost understandingly.

"We're waiting to get our AED bins so that we can shower," He explained, "They should have one for you set up already. You arrived last night, right?"

Arthur nodded absentmindedly.

"How long have you been here?" He wondered out loud.

"3 days so far," He replied. Arthur was a bit surprised. How did everyone seem to know what they were doing after only being here a few days?

"Oh," He said, unsure of how to respond.

"You'll get used to it soon," The other boy assured, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, "It's terrible, but slightly more bearable after the first day."

Oddly, that wasn't reassuring to Arthur at all. He nodded absentmindedly and looked down, suddenly being reminded why he hated smalltalk so much.

The other boy looked clearly uncomfortable as well as he was handed his bin and walked down the hallway.

It turned out, Arthur did have a bin after all. Inside was, what appeared to be, a stereotypical complimentary set of hotel shampoos and a small toothbrush that looked like it wasn't meant to actually be used. Still, it was better than nothing. He hadn't had a chance to have his mother bring clothing yet, so he would have to deal with the things that he was provided.

* * *

Arthur opened the door to his room to find a very shirtless Antonio with two towels in his hands.

"I hope you don't mind if I jump in first?" He asked, pulling open the door to their shared bathroom. "I take a fast shower," He assured, smiling like he always did. Arthur thought it must be impossible for anyone to say no to him with a smile like that.

"It's fine," He assured, looking anywhere but at Antonio's chest, walking into the room and grabbing his covers off of the bed. He might as well make the bed if he was going to be staying here. The room was already terrible looking enough without being dirty. He noticed that Antonio's bed was still messy and shook his head, wondering if he was going to be a messy roommate.

When the bed was made, Arthur laid back on top of it, closing his eyes for a moment and wondering just when his life turned into complete shit.

_It was the beginning of year 9, Arthur walked down the hallway, late to class, yet again. He was still learning the school and wasn't used to his locker combination yet. He hoped the professor didn't give him a detention as he ran down the hallway, bumping into a solid form and stumbling backward._

_ "Hey, watch were you're going!" The voice said, as Arthur tried to regain his sight, scrambling off of the floor and looking at the person he had bumped into. He was a large guy, tall, muscular, the __usual jock type. Great, Arthur thought, just what he needed. _

_ "I-I'm sorry," He said, stepping back a little, not daring to look at the boy in front of him. "I was in a hurry and I-"_

_ "Calm down," The boy said, laughing a little. Arthur looked up with the change of attitude and raised an eyebrow. "You're year 9, right? Haven't seen you around before," He said, eyes sparkling. Arthur couldn't look away, despite himself. There was just something about those eyes that drew him in..._

_ "Um, yes, I'm year 9," Arthur said, snapping back to his senses, "Arthur Kirkland," He introduced, keeping eye contact with the other boy. _

_ "Nicholas Clemsey," The boy replied, holding out his hand for Arthur to take, "Year 11. You can call me Nick."_

_ Arthur took the hand hesitantly and shook it, surprised by how soft the other's hands were. He pulled back after a moment, lingering in his touch too long and looked down, blushign._

_ "Right, well, I need to get to class," He said quickly, starting to walk away._

_ "Hey!" _

_ Arthur turned around, looking right into those bright brown eyes again, finding himself unable to breath._

_ "See you around, kay?" He said, grinning in a way that made his heart twist in an unexpected way. _

_ "Um, yeah, see you..." He said, trailing off uncertainly, wondering just why the boy had gotten that reaction out of him, and just what that said about him. _

Arthur turned over in the bed, wishing he could take back the interaction all together, as Antonio walked out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel.

Arthur averted his eyes, feeling completely awkward as he was knocked out of his thoughts. He quickly grabbed his own bin and entered the bathroom without a word, grabbing two towels from the rack.

He desperately needed a shower.

* * *

"Hey, Artie!" Alfred ran up the hallway toward Arthur, who had just left his room, hair still wet from the shower. His eyes widened, surprised by both Alfred's enthusiasm and a bit peeved that he was still using the nickname he had told him not to. "We're in the same group!"

Alfred's eyes were wide and excited, bright blue, sparkling with a childish charm that Arthur was unable to look away from.

Arthur swallowed, looking at the other boy, and having no idea what to say. He felt his stomach twist uncomfortably and looked away. Those eyes...they were so familiar...

"What group are we in?" He asked, looking down and away from Alfred.

"Miss Alyson's," He said, grinning wickedly even though Alfred couldn't see it. Why was he always so excited? "Arts and crafts."

"Arts and crafts?" Arthur asked incredulously. How were arts and crafts supposed to help him get better? "Why would we do that?"

Alfred laughed, that bright laugh that was almost contagious.

"That's what I said my first day too," He admitted, "I guess it's what we're supposed to do instead of killing ourselves." He was joking, but Arthur didn't know whether to laugh or not. It seemed like everybody was so open about that sort of thing here, like it was a big joke.

When Arthur didn't respond, Alfred grabbed his hand and started pulling him away. He stiffened, eyes widening, heart hammering, and pulled his hand way.

_"Let go of me!" Arthur cried, eyes widening as he scanned the empty hallway. Anyone could catch them at any moment. Two boys holding hands. "Where are we even going?"_

_ Nick laughed, eyes wide and excited as they always were. _

_ "Calm down, Artie, it's a surprise."_

_ Despite himself, Arthur found himself smiling as he followed the other boy, hand in hand, no one around to see them...to stop them..._

"Hello! Earth to Artie!" Alfred said, waving a hand in front of his face and snapping him out of his reverie. "We're gonna be late, come on!"

Arthur yanked his hand out of Alfred's hold and followed after him. "Bloody Git," He mumbled under his breath. What was he getting himself into?

* * *

Arthur looked down at the blank sheet of paper in front of him and sighed. He was a God awful artist, what was he even supposed to draw? The nurse, Miss Alyson, had announced that they were to draw themselves how they saw themselves in ten years. What was he even supposed to do? This was far too personal...and he didn't even know himself.

"Arthur, do you need help?" The woman asked kindly, leaning over his desk and looking down at his blank sheet of paper as though he was a child.

"No, I'm fine," Arthur said quickly, picking up his pencil and putting it to the paper.

"Well if you need any help, just ask," The woman said, acting as though he was a preschool student again. Arthur rolled his eyes and began to draw the outline of a face.

What did he want to be? He knew he didn't want to be himself...but what would make him better? In Arthur's opinion, he was almost a lost cause at this point.

"Alright, who would like to share?" Miss Alyson asked, sitting on top of one of the desks and looking around the room. Arthur eyed her Winnie the Pooh scrubs and hoped she didn't call on him. He still had nothing on his paper.

"Alfred, what about you?" She turned to Alfred, who was sitting next to him and nodded quickly.

"Sure thing, Miss Alyson," He said, holding up his paper for everyone to see. Alfred was really a terrible artist. Everything was out of proportion, you could hardly tell what the picture was of.

"Don't quit your day job, Al," Gilbert said from across the room, laughing in that laugh that made Arthur want to throw something.

Miss Alyson threw him a warning stare and waited for Alfred to continue.

"I drew myself as a pilot," Alfred explained, and Arthur found himself laughing a little under his breath. Was that what it was supposed to be?

"That's wonderful, Alfred!" Miss Alison said, clapping her hands together. Everyone looked uninterested.

"Yeah, I've always wanted to be a pilot," He said, "Ever since I was a kid. We always flew around a lot so I liked being up in the air."

'What did Alfred's parents do?,' Arthur found himself wondering. Was that why he was here in England?

"Have you thought about taking flight lessons?" The woman asked, probably humoring Alfred. He looked down and smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah, but it's not gonna happen."

"Why not?"

"Just isn't."

Arthur looked over at Alfred and frowned. He had never heard him sound so...defeated in the short time that he had been there.

"Alright..." Miss Alyson said, dropping the topic. "Who else would like to share?" She scanned the area, waiting to pick a victim and smiled, "What about you Roderich?"

"I really don't want to share," He said quickly. His paper was folded up and he looked down awkwardly.

"Come on, everybody's going to share," She said in encouragement. Arthur's face paled. Everybody? "Where do you see yourself in ten years?"

He looked up and swallowed.

"I want to be a musician," He said simply, clearly not wanting to say much more.

Of course Miss Alyson couldn't just leave it at that. Arthur really hated this woman, he decided.

"What kind of musician?"

"A pianist."

"You play the piano?" She said, almost too surprised. Obviously he played the piano if he wanted to be a pianist. Arthur rolled his eyes. There she was with that preschool teacher tone again. Arthur wanted to hit his head against the desk. How much longer did they have to be here?

Roderich nodded simply.

"That's very nice, Roderich!" She said cheerily, turning to another boy who Arthur hadn't seen earlier.

"Francis, what about you, dear?"

So that was Francis. Arthur looked him over quickly, trying not to look like he was staring. The first thing that struck him about Francis was how _thin_ he was. Not just the usual thin, but unhealthily thin. The second thing that caught his eye were his flashy red skinny jeans.

He held up his picture, which was actually really good. It reminded Arthur of the things one would see in a fashion magazine from some big-shot designer.

"I want to be a fashion designer," Francis said, grinning, "Maybe do a little modeling in my spare time."

Gilbert scoffed and grinned at Francis, who rolled his eyes. The interaction was joking, not threatening in the slightest

"That's interesting, Francis, I think you're very well on your way!" Miss Alyson said in that same robot voice of hers.

Arthur dreaded his turn as she went to each person.

"What about you, Arthur?"

Great. Just great.

"Hm?" He asked, a bit out of it. He hadn't been listening, truthfully.

"It's your turn to share."

"Oh." Shit. "Um. I didn't have anything," He admitted, looking down at his hands.

Miss Alyson's smile didn't falter.

"Well just tell us what you think, then!"

Arthur took a deep breath. Where did he see himself in ten years? Dead. That's where he saw himself in ten years, if he even made it to ten years. But he might as well humor her.

"I want to open my own pub," Arthur said simply, "In London."

Of course the thought _had _crossed his mind before. What he'd do once he got out of high school. Go to college, major in English, maybe write a book, and open up a pub in the meantime. Of course that was stupid. None of that was ever going to happen. If anything he'd end up working straight out of high school to support his mum and then move out on his own when she no longer needed him. But he wasn't going to live that long anyway, so it didn't really matter.

"Wonderful idea, Arthur!" Miss Alyson said, "I'm sure you'll be very successful!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. Right.

"Well, that's the plan," He said, instead. If he wanted to get out of here, he might as well act positive.

Not soon enough, group ended. Alfred jogged up to him as he was about to walk into his room.

"You know, if you open a pub, I'll come to it," He said, grinning. Arthur stared at him for a moment, how innocent he looked, and smiled.

"Thank you, Alfred," He said, almost just to humor him and then opened the door to his room and walked inside, collapsing on the bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thank you so much to everyone who faved and added this to their alerts! I'm very grateful. Please let me know what you think in reviews. If it's horrible, I'd rather know how to improve!**

**Chapter 4: **

When Arthur returned from a long lunch, which was filled with food being thrown and Gilbert and Lovino nearly tearing each other's heads off, they were all forced to go back to their room for what they called "quiet time".

Arthur thought it sounded like something that would be on a pre-k schedule, but he was almost excited to have some time that didn't involve screaming and the nurses watching their every move.

When he opened the door, Antonio was already inside, on his bed writing in some sort of journal that Arthur had seen the other kids writing in earlier. Was he supposed to receive one too? No one told him anything here...

"Oh, hi!" Antonio said, looking up from whatever he had been working to diligently on and grinned. "How's your first day?"

Arthur blinked.

"Tolerable," He said carefully, sitting down on his own bed and staring at the wall. He wished that he had a book to read. Maybe he could get his mom to bring him one. When were phone calls? "It's very...loud."

Antonio laughed.

"Doesn't get much better," He admitted, "Today was actually a quiet day."

What? How could anything that happened today be considered _quiet_.

Arthur could only nod, pulling his knees in to rest his chin on.

"What are you writing?" He asked curiously, not wanting to focus on any of the events of the day, and also hoping that he didn't sound like he was prying. Did anyone pry here? It seemed like everyone was pretty open about everything.

Antonio looked down as though he had forgotten he was doing anything before Arthur entered the room and smiled to himself.

"A letter," He said simply, picking the notebook up and examining his handiwork. "To Lovino."

"Oh," Arthur said. From what he had seen of Lovino he hadn't been very friendly...why would someone like Antonio be writing him a letter?

As if sensing Arthur's thoughts, Antonio added, "He's actually a lot nicer once you get to know him."

Arthur had trouble seeing how that was possible, but Antonio seemed like one of those people who saw the good in everyone.

"You want a piece of paper?" Antonio ripped a sheet out of his notebook before Arthur could even answer, "Here you go. You might have to search around for a pen though," He admitted, sheepishly, "We're not supposed to have them, but people hide them everywhere."

Arthur nodded, taking the paper and staring at it. What exactly was he supposed to do? He hated writing out his emotions, it always made him feel worse, and he didn't have anyone to write to...

"I heard you got here from an overdose," Antonio said, out of the blue, leaning back on the bed so that he was resting on his forearms, "Me too."

Arthur swallowed, feeling as though his every movement was being judged, as though his whole soul had been bared. He wasn't used to people talking so freely about their problems like people did here.

"You overdosed too?" He asked curiously.

Antonio nodded, eyes glazing over as though he was seeing something entirely different than the wall across the room that said 'Kill me I need weed'.

"That's what Roderich did too," He offered after a moment, sitting up, "And another kid who just left a day ago. I think that's what a lot of people do. You know, if you want to kill yourself."

Arthur nodded. Great. He was a statistic.

"Why'd you do it?" He asked after a moment. It was hard to see Antonio in that kind of place. Especially when he was always so happy.

Antonio sat up, biting his lip.

"I mean, if you don't want to tell me you don't have to-"

"No." Arthur was cut off, "No. I can talk about it. It's why I'm here, right?" He forced a smile and Arthur felt a strange sadness building in his chest. He knew those kinds of smiles too well.

Arthur nodded and sat back against the wall, not caring that it was colder than the rest of the room on his back.

"We moved to London when I was 15," He explained, "-for my dad's job. We were always moving around. He was a journalist. And I never really cared too much. It was almost like an adventure, you know? And yeah, we never had a lot of money, but it was always enough." Antonio smiled sadly, looking down at his notebook. "We lived there a year when he was shot. He was walking down the street to pick me up from my job at the market on the corner. He always walked me home because I got off at night and he didn't trust me walking home alone." Antonio bit his lip. "Hate crime, they said. I saw him dead." His voice shook, and Arthur felt as though he was intruding on a very private moment. He shifted uncomfortably.

"S-so that's when everything went wrong," He said, taking a deep breath, "After he died I had to start working more hours to support my mom. School went to hell..." He trailed off. "And one day, I couldn't take it anymore. And it's probably the most selfish thing I've ever done." He looked down at his hands, "How could I do that to my mom? When she needed me?" He scrunched his eyes up, trying not to break down completely. "How could I do that when I was the only one left?"

Arthur looked on with wide eyes. That was...horrible. He pushed his lips together, unsure of what exactly to say, because he knew that nothing would make it better.

"I'm sorry," He said, knowing that it sounded lame at best, but Antonio gave him a small quivering smile anyway.

"It's over now," He said, "Don't worry about it."

Arthur opened his mouth to say something else when a knock sounded at the door. The door flew open, as though the knock was just to alert them that someone was coming in, and a woman in pooh bear scrubs with dark red hair put one foot into the room.

"Arthur Kirkland?" She asked, looking down at her clipboard.

"That's me," He said, a bit surprised by the intrustion.

"Come with me," She said, "It's your turn to see the doctor."

Arthur nodded, almost relieved to be leaving the tense atmosphere of the room. He looked toward Antonio one last time before following the woman out of the room and down the hall until they stopped at a door.

The woman fumbled with her keys and cursed under her breath.

"You didn't hear that," She said to Arthur, who nodded, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Alright," She said, once the door was open, "Go on in, the doctor is waiting for you."

Arthur suddenly felt nervous, stepping into the room in which they had group in earlier in the day. There was a man waiting for him with a bright green tie and gelled gray hair. He looked like he could be Arthur's grandfather.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Conner," the man said, "Sit down, make yourself at home and we'll get to know each other, shall we?"

Arthur sat down on the couch, folding his hands together and crossing his legs, feeling almost stupid in the presence of someone who looked so well put together in his old t-shirt and jeans that he had come in.

"Alright, so what brings you to the hospital, Arthur?"

Arthur bit his lip.

"I overdosed," He said, feeling as though he had answered the question a hundred times already. "Alright," The doctor said, jotting something down on his notepad, "And why would you do that?"

Arthur shrugged. Hadn't he already had this conversation with the woman who had interviewed him on his arrival? He had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time.

"I wanted to die."

"And why did you want to die?"

Arthur looked down at the floor and shrugged, focused on counting the number of tiles.

"If you want us to help you, you're going to have to open up a little bit more," the doctor said kindly. Arthur could tell he had been through much worse meetings before. He wondered what Gilbert did when he saw him.

"I was having trouble at school," Arthur said simply after a moment. There. Shouldn't that be enough?

"What type of trouble at school?"

Of course he wanted more. Arthur bit down on his lip.

"The usual."

"What does the usual entail?"

"I don't really want to get into it."

"Arthur, I'm trying to help you."

That was the problem. He couldn't _be_ helped. He was beyond it now. Life just sucked. And that was it. There wasn't any way to fix it or make it better. Life sucks and then you die. That's how it worked.

"It makes me upset to talk about," Arthur admitted. "I don't want to talk about it."

"It might make you feel better."

"I don't think so."

The doctor sighed and sat back in his chair.

"Alright, then let's talk about something else. What do you like to do in your spare time?"

"Read."

"Ah!" The doctor said, smiling far too kindly, "Reading is good. Reading is nice. What type of books do you read?"

"Fantasy mostly," Arthur said, "I like the Lord of the Rings series."

"A very good series," The doctor commented, "Very long. Hard reads. You must be good in school. Are you good in school?"

Arthur nodded. School was one thing that was actually going well in his life. Go figure.

"Well what about friends, what are you friends like?"

"I don't really have a lot of friends," Arthur said, looking down.

"Do you have one close friend?"

"No, well-" Arthur trailed off, "I used to."

"What happened?"

He shrugged.

"A lot of things. I'm not very good at keeping friends."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know."

He wanted to stop talking about this, now.

"When did you and your friend stop talking?"

"A year ago."

"Did that affect you badly?"

Arthur bit his lip.

"Yes."

"Did you speak with him before you attempted suicide?"

"Yes, but that's not why I did it," Arthur said quickly, words flowing out of his mouth, "I did it because I'm me, okay? Nobody else affected me. I tried to kill myself because I hate being me."

"Why would you hate yourself?"

"Because I can't do anything right. Because I'm-" He cut himself off. He couldn't say it. Not yet.

"Because you're what, Arthur?"

"I can't say it."

"Sure you can."

"I can't!" He cried desperately, hands clawing into the couch. "I'm sorry."

"Maybe if you say it, you'll feel better."

Arthur shook his head.

"When did you start feeling depressed?" The doctor asked after a long beat of silence.

"I don't know," Arthur said. He really_ didn't _know. He didn't even think he _was_ depressed.

"A year ago?"

"Maybe..." Everything seemed to go to hell a year ago. "Probably."

"How do you cope when you're upset?"

"I don't know..." Yes he did. He locked himself in his room and cried until he fell asleep. Not that he'd ever admit that to anyone. He felt stupid for it already. "I just go to sleep."

"Do you sleep a lot?"

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

Arthur nodded.

"What about your diet? Are you eating?"

Suddenly Arthur felt self conscious of his thin physique.

"Yes," He said, "I'm usually not very hungry."

"Well, that's a symptom of depression," The doctor said, "We'll put you on some medication and that should help. 30 milligrams of lexapro to start out and we'll go from there."

They were putting him on medication? After just that? He didn't need medication...he wasn't crazy. Medication was for crazy people.

Arthur had a million objections, but he simply nodded.

"Alright."

"Alright," The doctor stood up in his chair, "That's all I need from you Arthur, the rest of the kids are in the lounge," He pointed down the hall. "We'll talk again tomorrow, alright?"

"Alright."

Arthur walked down the hallway quickly, glad to be out of the hot seat and toward the lounge where everyone was sitting around listening to the music that came out of one of the on demand music channels. Crappy rap music. Fantastic.

He sat down on one of the stools next to Matthew and looked around the room. Everyone was deep in thought writing in their notebooks. Was that what everyone did here? Write notes to each other?

He looked to his side and noticed Alfred walking toward him with a folded up piece of paper in his hand.

"I wrote you a letter," He said, handing it to Arthur without waiting to see his response, "You should write me one too!"

Arthur blinked. Well. What else did he have to do.

"Thank you," he said, looking down at the letter and wondering what it could possibly say. 'Hi! I just met you, but we both wanted to kill ourselves' ?

_Dear Artie,_

_ You seam _(Arthur tried to ignore the fact that seem was spelled wrong and moved on to the rest of the letter, which was also sprinkled with misspellings and grammar mistakes.) _like a really cool guy! I havent really talked too you much, but I think we'll be best friends. _

Arthur rolled his eyes.

_I know you've bean through some rough stuff, but we can talk about it if you want. :) You should probably stay away from Gilbert because he's pretty mean sometimes and he'll probably say something to you. Probably because you're so quite. It's okay to be quite though. You must have alot going on in your mind. I bet you think about some pretty awesome stuff. Quite people always have awesome brains. I'm not so quite. I don't have an awesome brain. Actually, I'm pretty dumm. Haha. _

_ We should talk some time! _

_ -Your friend,_

_ Alfred_

Arthur stared at the letter for a very long time. That was it? It was so short... then again, Alfred didn't seem to have a very large attention span. Friends? Who said they were friends? Arthur looked over at the other boy who was immersed in a game of x's and o's with Antonio across the room.

He picked up a pen and the paper that Antonio had given him earlier and stared at it.

What was he supposed to say back?

He put the pen to the paper and started,

_Dear Alfred, _


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I'm sorry for the long wait! Here's Chapter 5! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, and I hope that you'll continue to review. I love knowing how I can improve, and if something is really terrible, I'd like to know how to correct it. **

Chapter 5:

_Dear Alfred,_

Arthur paused, looking down at the paper in front of him. What was he supposed to say? He had only just met the boy today, and it wasn't like he really knew all that much about him. Well, besides the fact that he had apparently tried to jump off London bridge, which was probably the stupidest thing Arthur had ever heard of. Who would do something so reckless?

He shook his head and put the pen that Antonio had handed to him earlier to the paper.

_Thank you for the advice about Gilbert, but I'm sure I can figure things out for myself. I'm flattered that you're so worried about my well-being though, and that you took the time to write me a letter. Where are you from, exactly? I can tell from your accent that you're probably from the states. What brought you to London? I think that being friends would be a nice idea._

He paused writing and looked down at the paper. He had never really had a lot of friends, or any friends in general...besides...

He shook his head. There was no use thinking about that now.

_I hope that you write back again,_

_Arthur._

He folded the paper up thoughtfully and took the opportunity to scan his surroundings. Francis was stretched out on the bench across the room, feet on Antonio's lap while he continued to write in his notebook. Antonio was probably writing to Lovino again, and Arthur wondered just how he could have so much to say to the grouchy boy he had just met this morning.

On the other side of the bench, Gilbert sat, back turned and leaning on Antonio, flipping through the music channels on the telly. He watched one of the stations for a second and then gave up and sat back, looking bored.

It must be hard to have been in a place like _this_ for two months, he thought, and he wondered just what Gilbert could have done to have stayed so long.

He looked across the room to the bench across the wall, where Roderich was reading a book with a title that Arthur couldn't see. He looked so engrossed in it that he probably had no idea what was going on around him, which was probably a blessing considering the loud rap music that was ringing out of the telly.

Matthew sat on the same couch, cross-legged and writing in his own notebook. It must be nice, Arthur thought, to know that you were going home in a matter of hours.

Lovino was nowhere to be seen. Arthur assumed that he was in his room, but was that even allowed? Maybe he was sleeping, and Arthur didn't blame him, really. He wouldn't mind dozing off and never waking up, after all.

And then there was Alfred, who was watching him with his bright cerulean eyes like he always was. He sat between Matthew and Roderich on the bench, eyes wandering from the telly, which really didn't have much on it besides a stereotypical rap music video that Arthur thought didn't seem to suit Alfred's interest at all. He looked down, self-conscious. He wondered just how Alfred could keep on looking at him when he was obviously aware of his attention.

Maybe image just didn't matter to the American at all.

He sat up from the bench and walked across the room to hand Alfred the letter he had just written.

"Here you go," he said, holding the object out in front of him. "I'm sorry it's not very long but I'm really not very good at this sort of thing." Arthur was terrible at just_ talking_ to new people, let alone writing them a full letter.

Alfred grinned, that bright grin that Arthur had grown accustomed to in the last few hours. Sometimes he wondered just how someone with so much energy had wanted to take his own life.

" 'S alright," he said, quickly grabbing the paper from Arthur's fingers. He shoved it in his pocket and looked up at him. "Why're you sitting over there all alone?" he asked, that kind look shining bright in his eyes. It made Arthur both want to stare forever and look away at the same time. He settled on the latter and looked at his worn socks.

"I didn't think there was really room anywhere else," he replied lamely. Truthfully, he hadn't wanted to intrude in anyone's business. He still felt like an outsider in this strange place.

"Well come on," Alfred said, scooting over so that he was nearly flush against Roderich, who looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow.

Alfred rolled his eyes, ignoring him and patted the spot next to Matthew on the bench. "Come on, there's plenty of room!"

Arthur sat down hesitantly, crossing his legs so that he wasn't touching Matthew or Alfred, and feeling rather cramped for personal space.

"So come on, tell me about you," Alfred said, not appearing to notice the awkward atmosphere at all. "I bet you're really smart. You look like you're really smart."

"Um." Arthur looked down at his hands and shrugged. "I'm not really. I get fine enough marks but..."

Truthfully, school had been getting harder ever since he had to start working, and since the teasing had started...

"Psh. I bet you're one of those kids who says they don't do well but they're getting straight A's." He laughed and shook his head. "Me, I hate school. I just wanna go out and play some soccer or something."

Oh. He was definitely American.

Arthur found himself snorting.

"You mean football?"

Alfred laughed loudly and obnoxiously.

"Nope. I mean soccer."

Their eyes met.

"Do you play on a _football_ team?" he asked curiously. Alfred was surely built for it. He was tall and somewhat muscular despite his young age. Just what was his age? Arthur realized that he had never asked.

Alfred nodded.

"Uh, yeah, I used to." He ran a hand through his hair uncomfortably. "Uh, I got kicked off though."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, and Alfred moved to explain,

"I mean, not cause I did anything _that bad_ I mean, my grades sucked, and then there were the detentions, but I mean, those were really unfair 'cause I had a legitimate reason to be late all those times. And then there was the one time that I wrote my report on Captain America instead of the topic, but really, it was just _so boring_ and I didn't really care _that _much anyway..." He trailed of and shrugged sheepishly.

"You wrote an essay on Captain America?" Arthur asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

Alfred grinned.

"Heck yeah! He's the best super hero ever and I figured you Brits could use a good dose of US patriotism..."

The rest of the day passed slowly to the tune, if you could call it that, of shitty rap music. Arthur had never been so completely bored in his life. It was almost like watching paint dry, or what he imagined it to be like. Everyone looked so completely drained of life that it was almost more depressing than being out in the real world. Was this what they wanted? To depress you so much that you never wanted to come back?

"Boys, personal space," the nurse said, sitting down on the empty bench across the room and pointing to Francis, Antonio and Gilbert. Francis swung his legs off of Antonio and sat up, leaning against the arm rest of the bench, looking too bored to really care anymore. Gilbert rolled his eyes and sat up, sending a pointed glare to the nurse.

"Thank you," she said, returning to her paperwork and writing something down. Arthur wanted to know so badly what she had to write down.

Before he really knew it, the time had passed enough that it was dinner time, and the boys all shuffled back into the dining room, standing in front of the window again. It all reminded Arthur of what he had seen in prison movies when the prisoners were issued their sludge.

One by one each of the boys was issued their tray of food, Arthur again with an extra tray until he could pick out his own meals.

He sat down uncertainly at the table he had sat at during both breakfast and lunch, next to Alfred.

When he opened his tray he found that there was some disgusting looking pasta and a stale roll. Appetizing.

"Hey, you want my carrots?" Alfred asked, looking at them as though they had legs and were crawling around the plate. Arthur shook his head. "They keep giving me this stuff and I don't want it. God I can't wait to get a Big Mac when I'm outta here."

Arthur laughed. Alfred certainly had his priorities straight.

"How old are you?" he wondered aloud. It had been something he had been meaning to ask Alfred for a while, but never quite got around to it.

Alfred looked up, mouth full of some sort of chicken that looked completely disgusting, but Arthur decided not to question it.

"Fourteen," he mumbled, a piece of food falling out of his mouth. Arthur made a face and then raised an eyebrow. Alfred was certainly a lot younger than he looked.

"I'm fifteen," Arthur said, although Alfred didn't ask for the information. "You really look a lot older, I was half expecting you to be seventeen."

Alfred shrugged.

"I get that a lot."

Arthur nodded to himself and looked at the others who had started to sit down at the table around him. He judged most of their ages to be around sixteen, although with the surprise of Alfred's age it was nearly impossible to tell.

"Are you the youngest here?" he asked after a moment, almost hesitantly. He didn't want to sound nosy.

"Yep, me and Lovino," Alfred said, almost prideful.

Lovino set his tray down harshly and stabbed at his juice box.

"What did you say about me, bastard?" he snapped, eyes setting dangerously on Alfred, who put his hands up in surrender.

"Just telling him how old you were, no need to lose your shit."

They stared at each other for a few moments before Lovino shook his head and muttered curses under his breath.

"As I was _saying_," Alfred said, turning back to Arthur after firing another look at Lovino, "We're the youngest, and then there's you and Matt who are fifteen." He motioned to the blonde boy who was sitting next to Alfred. "And then there's Roderich who's 16...?" He trailed off as though it was a question and then turned to the boy in question.

"You're 16, right?"

He nodded simply and took to opening a packet of sugar to pour in his iced tea.

"Yeah, he's 16, and I think Francis is 16 too. And then Antonio and Gilbert are 17."

Arthur nodded and looked around him, realizing that there really weren't as many people as he had originally assumed. Eight of them, counting himself. He wondered if anyone new would arrive, and even more so if he wanted anyone new to arrive.

"Are you still leaving tomorrow, Matthew?" Roderich asked, looking over at the blonde boy who nodded, a small smile on his lips. Arthur never saw so much joy portrayed with such a small smile.

"Yep. My mom's coming at 12." He said shyly, looking down at his chicken fingers. "I'm so happy."

"Congrats, Matty!" Alfred exclaimed, wrapping an arm around the other boy before the nurse gave him a look and he released him. "You gotta get me your number so I can call you out of here!"

Matthew shook his head and laughed.

"Sure thing, Al."

It was moments like these when Arthur wondered just when he would be leaving. It felt as though it would be centuries away currently.

"Where's Francis?" Matthew wondered out loud, as Antonio took his seat next to Lovino, with Gilbert shuffling in next to him.

"I think he said he was feeling sick and went to his room," Antonio answered, frowning a little as he looked around at everyone currently at the table, as though they would know something more than he would. Everyone adverted their eyes.

"He missed breakfast and lunch too..." Matthew bit his lip and gave Antonio a meaningful look. "Do you think that he's..._okay_?"

Antonio blinked. "I don't know, _mi amigo_, maybe you should check on him when we can go back to our rooms."

Gilbert took a large bit of his apple which broke the uncomfortable silence that followed after.

"Godammit. I'm so sick of this food," he groaned, slamming it back on his tray.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"I just want a big juicy tomato," Antonio said dreamily, "Or maybe some enchilada." He looked over at Lovino and smiled brightly, which was returned by the other boy rolling his eyes and scooting away.

Matthew laughed. "The first thing I'm doing when I get out of here is making a big stack of pancakes." He paused. "_Non_-microwavable pancakes."

"I'm going to eat a whole cake," Roderich offered and everyone groaned in agreement.

"I wouldn't mind some scones," Arthur said, "My mum makes fantastic scones. But I'm complete rubbish at baking."

Alfred laughed loudly, even though he hadn't really said anything particularly funny.

Dinner passed that night without conflict, which was something considering the fact that lunch had ended in a fight.

They all shuffled into the lounge again, followed by the nurse for yet another community meeting. Did they have to do this every day? Was there really a point to it?

One by one, just as in the morning, the nurse called out their names, asked them how their day had been and asked for another goal. And one by one, the teens answered with the same predictable answers from the morning. 'Pass my shift,' 'Stay positive,' 'Have a good night.'

Arthur noticed that Francis was still absent, but the nurse skipped over his name. Where was he?

After community meeting there were visiting hours. Arthur had been waiting for his mum to visit all day, hoping that she would. She had never promised him, but he was sure that she must want to see him just as much as he wanted to see her.

She had been the only constant in his life. Arthur's father had never been present, he had abandoned them when he was a child and Arthur had no desire to really ever see him again. He was a drunken mess, according to his mum, and that was enough for him.

"Arthur, you have a visitor," the nurse said, walking into the lounge with a bored expression. Arthur's heart pounded in his chest as he nodded and followed her to the visiting room. There were two couches and a few chairs scattered around.

Inside there were a scarce few people all waiting almost anxiously to see their child, but Arthur's eyes were instantly drawn to the tired blonde woman in the corner.

He walked as though in a dream and pushed his lips together so as to not break down. It was the first time he had seen her since the incident and a million emotions were swirling around him. Everything seemed to pass in slow motion as she whispered his name, sad eyes on his own. And suddenly he remembered what Antonio had said earlier in the day. How could he leave her? How could he try to do something so selfish?

His lip quivered.

"Hi, mum."

Her lips parted as she took in a deep breath, trying so desperately to hold _herself _together, and Arthur felt the sinking in his chest increase tenfold. This woman had done everything for him. She had worked hard to give him a good life and he was going to leave her all alone.

In that moment he felt like the worst person on the planet.

"I'm so sorry..." Arthur muttered, voice shaking. "I'm sorry."

He didn't notice anyone else around him in the visiting room as he looked into his mother's eyes.

"No," Arthur's mother shook her head, tears in her eyes, "No. Don't be sorry. I shouldn't have left you alone I-"

"No. No mum, this...this isn't anything to do with you," he corrected quickly. "This is me. I've done this to myself. I'm so sorry."

He couldn't stop repeating that word, no matter how many times he said it, it would never be enough. He was furious with himself. How had he gotten here? How had his life become a complete and total wreck? He was completely hopeless. Completely lost. And now nothing would ever be okay again.

"I brought you some clothes, and some books..." his mother said after a moment of silence. Every word from her mouth was a knife in his chest. She sounded so completely...heartbroken.

"Thank you."

"Things will be better, Arthur," she said, "You'll see. We'll make it through this. We'll get you help."

He nodded. He never needed help before. He didn't need it now, and still he nodded.

The meeting passed faster than it should have, and when Arthur hugged his mother goodbye, he wished he could leave with her. But he couldn't. So he left the room quickly and wiped at his eyes as he entered the lounge again. He didn't want people to see him like this.

But as he looked around at the faces of his fellow patient he saw them flash a look of sympathy to him and quickly look away.

Soon enough it was the night time and Arthur found himself back in the horrid board of a bed that he had spent the last night in. However, this night felt different. Tonight he wasn't so completely scared and alone as Antonio chatted mindlessly next to him about his home in Spain and about the things that Lovino or Francis or Gilbert had said earlier in the day.

He slowly drifted off into sleep without problem for the first time in a long while.


End file.
